


Mindful

by denynothing1



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-14
Updated: 1999-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:29:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denynothing1/pseuds/denynothing1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why paying attention can pay off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mindful

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: After "Fight the Future," before "The Beginning."
> 
> Prequel to "Ars Domesticatus."
> 
> This is for plausible deniability and Dasha K., for support and for a little push, every now and then.

***

It started with a slow, seductive rhythm.

Eyes closed, Scully let the music in, and let the morning go – a morning filled with tying up loose ends in triplicate. She rolled her head from side to side, working the kinks out of her neck and shoulders. The tension in her jaw, across her forehead, and around her eyes began to dissolve.

She walked to each window in turn and closed the blinds until the light in the living room acquired a soothing underwater quality. As she moved back to the center of the room, she stretched her arms above her head, first one, then the other, reaching toward the ceiling. Slowly lowering her hands to the floor, she felt tendons lengthen, and tight muscles resist, then relax. For the next half hour, she let the music carry her swiftly through her workout. She had always felt a certain confidence in her physical ability, but over the last two weeks, she had reveled in it.

At the end of her routine, she carefully cooled down, noting with satisfaction the increase in flexibility as she stretched. That might come in handy later, she thought, then felt her cheeks burn at a sudden vision of just how handy that might be. As she walked back to the CD player, her body moved with a freedom it never enjoyed under her conservative suits. She started the recording from the beginning, and closed her eyes again, letting the sound transport her from a weekend afternoon in staid Georgetown to a sultry tropical night spot – one where the dance floor and the dancers were equally polished.

As the sultry beat pulsed through the apartment, her hips moved side to side, forward and back, slowly at first, then in time to the music. For anyone else, the motion would be a subtle shimmy, but for those who knew her, it would be a revelation. Who would guess, she thought with a secret smile, that uptight, upright, terminally white Scully could move like this?

Caught up in the music, and her rediscovered sense of rhythm, she added some simple steps, ignoring the crash of the front door and the squeak of running shoes in the front hall. The sounds came to an abrupt halt, and she visualized the owner of the shoes assessing her motion.

Hearing a slow approach, anticipation prickled up her spine and kicked her heart rate up a gear. She grabbed the strong hand that had settled on her hip and pulled it up around her shoulders, cloaking herself in the damp warmth and clean earthy scent of just-back-from-a-run Mulder. Eyes closed and hips swaying, she moved backward into his embrace.

"Shall we dance?" she said.

His raspy voice breathed in her ear, "I thought getting to know you came first."

"Isn't that what we've been doing?" she asked, as he moved his hand across her chest, where the tank tee stuck slightly to her skin.

She couldn't be sure, but thought she felt the first hint of movement as he began to pick up on her rhythm. She let out a small huff of surprise as his other hand reached around, settled on her abdomen and pull her against him. No doubt about it. Mulder was moving.

Her smile threatened to burst into an unScully-like giggle. "Are we going to open up an X-File on that thing in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Nothing paranormal about this Scully," he said.

"But you've made me believe, Mulder."

"Until recently, I never thought I could make you believe anything," he said, wrapping his arms tighter around her.

"Maybe you never presented such good evidence before."

He rubbed his cheek against her hair. "If you turn around, I'll show you some more."

She started circling her hips, moving closer to him with each revolution. "Can't you show me in this position?"

She felt his chest shaking with silent laughter. "Any way, any time, Scully. I just work better face to face."

"Oh, I don't know about that." She tilted her head as she felt his lips on the side of her neck, followed shortly by his teeth, nipping gently.

"Turn around, Scully," he whispered, sending shivers down her arms.

She avoided his intense gaze as she pivoted, and nestled her face in the convenient hollow created by his bent head and solid shoulder. She kissed his neck, then caressed the soft area below his ear with her tongue, reveling in his salty-sweet taste.

A soft moan signaled his approval, as did the action of his hands, sliding over her back and settling as low as they could reach, pulling her to him once again.

She started to move her feet, swaying her hips in time to the music. The demand in her voice echoed his. "Dance with me, Mulder."

He surprised her by pulling back and assuming a formal dance pose, right hand decorously at her waist, left hand extended. "Whatever you say, Scully." The teasing light in his eyes contradicted his docile tone.

She hooked the waistband of his running shorts and pulled him back to her. He stumbled a bit, then looked down at her, still smiling as his hip nudged her belly. "Whatever you want, Scully."

She frowned up at him. "For starters," she said, "take off the shoes. You're too damned tall."

"Is that all I get to take off?" he inquired politely, toeing off his shoes and socks.

"No, but it's a start," she replied absently, still working on her logistics problem. Removing his shoes had the beneficial effect of lowering his pelvis closer to hers -- though not close enough to make this as interesting a dance as it could be. She gave a frustrated wiggle in counterpoint to the music, sighed, and started to rise up on her toes, thinking that this was going to turn out to be an ungainly version of "Swan Lake", salsa-style.

He laughed softly. With a quick series of motions, he bent down and pulled off her own shoes and socks, then lifted her, carefully placing her feet on top of his. His hands moved down again, and he began to move in time to the music.

She liked the way the firm pressure in front and behind put them in synch. She liked it a lot.

"Better?" he asked.

"Mmm," she agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck, ruffling his damp, razor cut hair. "Even if I can't do much actual dancing this way."

"Well, we could always try dancing another way. Horizontal isn't nearly as challenging as vertical."

"Ah, but can you do it in time to the music?"

"If you can still hear the music, then I'm not doing it right."

"You haven't heard me complaining, have you?"

"I haven't heard much of anything, Scully. I've been preoccupied."

"Well, I think you've been paying attention pretty well."

"To tell you the truth...." He bit his lip, then dipped his head and started nuzzling her neck again. "You know, when you have clothes on, this is one of my favorite spots."

"Thank you, Mulder," she said. "Now tell me what you were going to say first."

She felt him pause, then heard a muffled, "No."

"No?" She laughed, and tugged his hair to give gentle emphasis to her words. "What about our agreement, Mulder? What about telling the truth?"

He pulled back. She got so much more than she'd bargained for in his gaze, she was tempted to push his head back down. "Will you tell me the truth, Scully?"

"What truth is that?" She was suddenly conscious of how trapped she was, surrounded by his big body, pinned in place by his eyes as much as his hands.

"Tell me what you like."

"What?"

His voice dropped to a low, seductive register. "Tell me what gives you pleasure."

"Mulder...." She closed her eyes, then leaned up to whisper in his ear, "I like to dance, Mulder." She started rocking her hips against him. "Let's dance."

"Scully...." He kissed her cheek, nudging until she moved her head enough to give him access to her mouth. He kissed her softly. "Scully...." He interspersed his kisses with tiny flicks of his tongue along her bottom lip, finally taking advantage of her gasp for breath to slide inside, slide his tongue along hers, to twist and finally pull her tongue into his mouth. He sucked gently, making a soft growling noise before releasing her mouth and repeating, "Scully... Tell me."

"W-What?" Proud that she had the presence of mind to keep her hips moving, proud that she was maintaining a slight measure of control, she was also honest enough to admit that she was losing that control fast. How simple it was for six years of discipline to go right out the window after a two week taste of bliss. One kiss, she thought. I am so easy.

Mulder's hand tightened, pressing her into even more intimate contact, stopping her motion. The thin material of their workout clothes left little doubt as to the state of his arousal. "This has been... a great couple of weeks, Scully," he said.

"I've enjoyed it," she said softly.

"Have you?"

She pulled back. "Of course, Mulder." At his quizzical expression, she decided some emphasis was in order. "God, yes, Mulder. Don't you know that?"

His color, already high from running, intensified. "It's not that simple," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

"Mulder -- this has been.... Mulder, I'm very...." She felt her own color rise. Why was this so difficult to say? "Everything's been A-OK," she said, firmly.

They were pressed together so tightly she felt his laugh before she heard it. "A-OK?"

"Would you rather I told you everything is fine? That I'm fine?"

He rolled his eyes, then bent to capture her mouth again, tilting her head back with the force of the kiss. Her eyes drifted shut as he tickled the sensitive skin just behind her lips with the rapid motion of his sinfully talented tongue. His hands began to creep up under her tight shirt, tracing abstract patterns. "Scully?" he queried.

Eyes still closed, she ran her tongue over her lips, savoring the tingling feeling the kiss had left behind. "Mulder," she affirmed.

That got her another sweet-tasting kiss. He broke free long enough to pull her shirt off, and the heat of the next deep, lush kiss counteracted the cool air brushing over the sensitized skin of her breasts. She was floating, all that was left of conscious thought concentrated on the nerve endings in her lips and tongue.

She stepped back, awkwardly regaining her footing. She heard him tear his own shirt off, and blinked her vision clear to the enjoyable sight of half-naked Mulder, damp skin glowing in the muted light. "I like the way you think, Mulder," she said, taking his shirt from his loose grasp, and picking her own off the floor. She used them to rub his chest and belly, noting how his breathing quickened as she set to work. "I always have. Did I ever tell you that?"

Getting no answer, least of all the playful rebuke she was expecting, she looked up and found Mulder's eyes fixed on her chest, sweeping over her torso with the same motions she was using on him. She felt blood rush to her cheeks, and rubbed harder. Apparently, the longest pre-sex conversation they'd ever had was over, and she supposed she should feel a little sorry for that. Until now, these interludes had been quite... hurried, moving in headlong dash of passion from preliminaries to shattering conclusion.

"Turn around," she said, pushing on his shoulder. He lifted his gaze and gave her a speculative look, then turned slowly. She rubbed the shirts over his back, then dropped them to the floor. She repeated the motion with her palms, enjoying the feel of strong muscle covered by soft skin. Just like.... She blushed harder, definitely not sorry, just impatient to move this into the bedroom.

She put her hand on his ass and gave him a small push. "Get going, Mulder."

He turned back to her. "First tell me," he said, reaching out to cup her breasts and run his thumbs over her nipples. "What do you want me to do for you once we're in there?" His intense gaze was unnerving. "What do you want to do, Scully?"

She bowed her head. Pre-sex conversations were fine. She wasn't sure they were ready for pre-sex confessions. Putting her hands up to cover his, she stopped the motion. "Why can't we just do what we've been doing, Mulder?" she whispered. "These past two weeks have been great. Why do we have to analyze everything to death?"

"These past two weeks I've been out of my mind, Scully. Mindless. Is that what you want? Mindless fucking?"

That snapped her head up. "Don't knock it Mulder. There's a lot to be said for mindless fucking if the amount of pleasure I've been feeling and the amount of forgetting I've been able to do is any indication."

"Scully," he said, moving his hands around to her back and pulling her unbending body into an embrace. "I want to do this so you know it's me. So you know it's us. I want it to be mindful."

The last sentence he spoke so close to her lips that each syllable was a kiss in its own right. He punctuated his request with a different sort of kiss, driving his tongue deep, pulling back and repeating the motion until she found the wherewithal to duel him to a draw.

They finally separated, gasping for breath. Mindful, she thought. Attentive and aware. "I guess we can try," she said, staring fixedly at his chest.

"Really?" There was no mistaking the smile in his voice. He brushed the backs of his hands over her hot cheeks.

She gave him a level look. "You should remember to be careful what you wish for, Mulder."

He returned her gaze, undaunted. "I've had pretty good luck so far."

Good luck to both of us, she thought.

"Let's stay in here," he said, surprising her by heading for one of the living room armchairs. "I want to see you."

He sat, then pulled her toward him, restraining her with one hand on her hip and a soft "Wait, wait," when she moved to sit in his lap. She acquiesced, and stood between his splayed legs, balancing with her hands on his shoulders. Her breasts were at the level of his mouth. Mindful, she thought. Right.

Knowing her assigned role in this experiment didn't prevent her from feeling self-conscious and on display, which made her resist slightly when he gently pulled her head down. He kissed her again, starting on her lips, then moving across her cheek, up to her ear, where he whispered, "You're beautiful, Scully."

At her immediate response -- an unladylike snort -- he pulled back and gave her a thoughtful look. He looped one finger in the gold chain around her neck and slid the dangling cross back and forth. "Have I ever told you how much I like the way you dress?"

"I think the only time you ever mentioned my wardrobe was when you told me not to forget to pack my cowboy boots," she retorted.

"That's a great part of my day, Scully," he said. "The first time I see you, and get to check you out." He grinned up at her. "Bet you never caught me, either."

"You think I'd let you know if I had, Mulder? You might have stopped."

He laughed, then dropped the chain and ran the palms of his big hands down the sides of her breasts, then gently over her nipples. "But...." He paused as if weighing a momentous decision, then hooked his fingers around the waistband of her shorts and slid them and her panties down her legs, steadying her as she stepped out of them. "This is my favorite outfit, I think."

"This old thing?" she said, shutting her eyes in embarrassment the minute the words were out of her mouth. "There's a lot of wear and tear, Mulder." She pulled her hands from his shoulders.

He caught her arms, then pulled one hand to his mouth where he kissed the palm, tickling the sensitive skin with the tip of his tongue. "Oh, yeah, this is the one." His lips tickled, too. "I like all the accessories." He lifted his head and smiled at her. "Is that the right word?"

"Which accessories did you have in mind?" she asked, wishing she could at least cross her arms, even while allowing him to place her hands back on his shoulders.

He cocked his head to one side, as if assessing his choices. "I like the smile," he said, reaching up to kiss her lips. 

She made a shaky effort, and was rewarded with a longer kiss, one that induced a real smile when his lips finally left hers.

"I love this," he said. He kissed the cross resting in the hollow of her throat. "For a whole hell of a lot of reasons," he muttered, so quietly she had to strain to hear.

"And this is good," he continued, pulling her closer and rubbing his nose along her breastbone, finally nestling his face between her breasts. "Perfume."

"I'm not wearing any perfume, Mulder," she said, stroking his hair.

"Exactly."

He moved his head to the side, stringing tiny kisses across one breast until he reached the nipple, using first his tongue, then his lips. Her nipples were already erect, but the one on which he lavished his attention responded extravagantly, almost painfully. He sucked the lengthening nub, making a low contented hum in the back of his throat. The vibration added to her pleasure, so much so, that she uttered a sharp sound of complaint when he released the nipple and looked up at her, licking his lips.

"Of course," he said, "if you wanted to add cowboy boots, I wouldn't complain."

"Yee-Ha," she said, choking on a laugh and noticed his words and actions were having as much of a positive effect on him as they were on her.

"This isn't going to be very much fun if you keep your pants on, Mulder," she said, running her hand along the waistband of his shorts.

"Just wait," he said, grabbing her hand. "I've still got a few more accessories." He put her hand back up on his shoulder, and grinned up at her. "Hang on, Scully."

He drew her close again, and kissed her other breast, using his teeth gently this time, then sucking softly.

He sat back abruptly, breathing hard. "Now they match."

Accessories should always match, Dana, she thought wildly, in her mother's voice, then gasped and gave up thinking altogether as his hand settled between her legs.

"Favorite," he muttered. "Favorite accessory." She spared one glance at his intent expression, then looked down to see his hand stroke the patch of hair at the top of her thighs. She closed her eyes as his fingers slid past her clitoris and traced each fold they encountered in turn. He drew his fingers forward, then began circling gently, maddeningly, at the periphery of where she wanted them most.

Her knees, already wobbly from his attention to her breasts, threatened to give out completely. "Mulder," she whispered. "Let me lie down. Lay down. Whatever."

He strengthened his hold on her waist, making her even more conscious that at that moment, his hand was her only secure support. He began to draw her forward, then surprised her by standing up and pulling her with him, so that her legs straddled him. His favorite accessory was now pressed intimately against hers. Well, this is okay, she thought. He started to walk. Very okay, she amended.

"Finished with the inventory so soon, Mulder?" she asked, not all that sorry that preliminaries were over.

"This chair won't work," he said, sounding preoccupied.

She looked up and realized that he was headed, not to the bedroom, but to the other end of the living room. "Where are you going?" she said, then, "No, Mulder!" as he sat on a small, armless Victorian chair.

"Perfect," he said, settling himself, then arranging her with her ass resting midway down his long thighs, her legs spread and her feet flat on the seat behind him.

She had to hold on to his shoulders to keep from falling backward, but her vulnerable position didn't keep her from protesting, "Mulder, this is my grandmother's chair!"

"Yeah?" he said, pulling her forward enough to kiss her again.

"Mulder, this is..." She gave up. "Are we going to christen all the furniture in the apartment?" she asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"From what I've learned lately about sex and the women in your family, Scully, I bet your grandmother christened this chair first."

She choked on another laugh, as his hand slid back between her legs. "Mulder, if you think talking dirty about my grandmother is going to turn me on..."

"You seem pretty turned on already, Scully." He was gazing intently at his hand, each stroke gliding easier than the one before.

"How long have you been this wet?" he asked, in a tone of almost professional curiosity, as if asking, 'How long has he been dead?'

"Since... ohhh..." She rubbed up against him as a series of moments from their partnership flashed through her mind, moments that had a sexual meaning for her in a way that might shock him. Deciding to take his question to mean 'How long today?' she murmured "Since you kissed me."

"So I guess you like kissing me."

"I like doing a lot of things with you, Mulder."

"It's not always this easy to tell," he said.

Now they were back to this. "You're a pretty observant man, Mulder. I thought you might have realized by now that I was enjoying this."

"That's what this is about, Scully" he said, stopping his pleasurable exploration. "How am I supposed to know if you're enjoying what we're doing as much as I am?"

"Because I didn't stop you? Or kick you out after the first time?"

His grin was accompanied by a cocked eyebrow that would have done her proud. "Maybe you were just being polite."

"Jesus, Mulder, good manners only go so far, even for me." She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You should know because I'm sitting here letting you... Sitting here.... Because I haven't kicked you out today, either, even though this is driving me nuts."

She wiggled closer to him, touching her nose to his and looking him in the eye. "If you have a point to make, Mulder," she said, rubbing deliberately against his hand and other tantalizing parts south of it, "you should make it soon."

He appeared to dismiss her threat, and continued in his best interrogation tone, "I'm curious...." he paused and shifted her backward, ignoring her growl of frustration. "For instance," he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "do you like this?" He traced his tongue over and around the outside of her ear, finally pulling the lobe into his mouth and sucking.

His warm breath tickled each tiny hair in her ear, and she felt sensation arc straight to her clit. She arched, using her feet as leverage, and felt his hand slip under her. She gasped as two long fingers slid up inside. Her arousal, which had risen in a series of peaks and plateaus since he'd walked in the door, reached a stage just short of pure pleasure, manifesting itself in a series of involuntary convulsions around his fingers.

"M-Mulder," she said, "you'd better hurry this up."

She began to move of her own accord, using her stomach muscles to rock forward and slide up on his fingers, groaning with pleasure as she sank back down. She anchored herself with one arm around his neck, pulling herself forward to kiss him, sliding her tongue into his mouth, muffling his startled, "Wait...." She moved her other hand to the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down as far as she could.

"Scully," he gasped, pulling his mouth from hers as she released him. "Wait." He grabbed her hand and pulled it to join the other around his neck.

She gave a shimmy of protest, trying to move from his fingers onto his cock. "Mulder, I want--"

He halted her forward motion, keeping her from rubbing her clit against him, keeping his fingers deep inside. Dropping his head so that his forehead rested against hers, he waited as their rapid breathing slowed in synch. He pulled the waistband of his shorts back up, ignoring her disappointed moan. "Scully, let me try to finish this," he said.

"What do you think I was trying to do?" she complained.

"Come on, Scully, this is hard enough as it is."

"Best news I've heard all day," she muttered.

He kissed her briefly, then rubbed his cheek against hers. "Can't I at least find out what else will get that kind of reaction?"

"Mulder, are you profiling me?"

"A good profiler uses every tool at his disposal."

"Promises, promises."

He pulled back, gave her a beatific smile, then leaned down to kiss her, an extravagant, open mouthed kiss. She moaned into his mouth, again convulsing involuntarily around his fingers. "Good?" he whispered.

You know it is, you bastard, she thought. And you are so going to pay for this. "Mmmm..." she said.

"I love kissing you," he said. "These lips..." He strung little kisses along her lips, teasing with the tip of his tongue. "This sweet little tongue," he murmured, dipping his own tongue into her mouth to twine around hers, rubbing just the sensitive tip. "The way it peeks out of the corner of your mouth when you're really angry with me. You know, Scully, arguing with you over the years has given 'tongue lashing' a whole new meaning."

"You haven't seen anything yet."

"Promises, promises." He moved his exploration down her neck, kissing her collarbone, nuzzling the hollow of her throat, letting his lips rest momentarily on the delicate skin. She felt her own heart beating  
in the pulse that jumped under his lips.

"Funny how things turn out," he whispered.

"What's that?"

"How it's your heart beating that keeps me alive."

She blinked, then shut her stinging eyes. Oh God, she thought. Mindful just beat mindless by a mile.

Thought was eclipsed by another round of sensation as his lips moved from her throat to her breasts, placing kisses along the sides, in between, underneath. His tongue swirled over her skin. "There's nothing softer than this," he muttered. "So soft."

He glanced up at her out of the corner of his eye, his lips still brushing her breast. "Do I ever hurt you when I do this?"

She shook her head no, mute at the sight of his reddened lips, startled to realize that they were the same color as her aroused nipples.

"Do you like it?" he asked softly. "Tell me."

She nodded her head, yes this time, and pressed her hand on the back of his head, pushing his mouth to where she wanted it.

He smiled up at her, then closed his eyes and slid his lips over her nipple. The sight of his rapt face and the sensation of his tongue -- the rough top surface that aroused, the slick under-surface that soothed -- the combination rocked her upward again.

"God, Mul--, uhh." She clenched around his fingers, desperate for completion, wildly seeking to rub her aching clit against him, against anything.

"Mmm, so good," he agreed, his voice muffled as his mouth closed over her other breast. This time he used strong suction to elicit the arch of her back and another drawn out moan.

"Mulder," she gasped "I'm going to--"

He let go of her nipple with a soft wet plop, and shot her an intrigued look. "Just from this?"

"-- _kill_ you, Mulder."

"Can't it wait?" he said. "I'm really busy here."

"Oh hell," she muttered. She took one hand off his shoulder and reached down to where she needed to be touched most. She had never considered doing this in front of anyone, but enough was enough. Looking him straight in the eye, because she was too embarrassed to look anywhere else, she said, "I guess if I want something done, I just have to do it mysel--"

He stopped her with a hand over hers. "Let me, Scully." He returned her direct gaze. "That's what this is all about. Tell me how."

Beyond embarrassment, she dropped her eyes. "I can't," she whispered.

"Then show me." He kissed her cheek, then gently moved her hand away, replacing it with his own. "Show me."

He began to move his hands, thrusting up inside, circling outside, missing the mark but getting points for enthusiasm and persistence. She tentatively put her hand over his, directed it. Her arousal ascended quickly to an almost unbearable peak.

"Mulder," she warned.

"Yeah?" He said, sparing a glance at her face. Whatever he saw there made him break into a happy smile. "Yeah, Scully?"

"Yes, Mul-, uhh," she confirmed, then closed her eyes as he added a variation of his own, rubbing the fingers inside her, by accident or design hitting the spot that sent her over the edge.

"Ohh my God, Mulder...." She came powerfully, almost lifting off his fingers. Arching her back and bucking wildly against him, she let out a strangled moan as pleasure raced from her toes up through the top of her head. Her breathing stopped for a long agonizing moment, then came back in loud, gusting pants.

Echoes of the first burst of pleasure rippled through her, drowning her in sensation and the sound of her own heart beating in her ears. Soon, a wave of lassitude washed over her, and she gave into it, dropping rational thought like a dead weight. That must be why.... Why the first words she heard from Mulder as she came up for air made no sense.

"...six times seven?" he was asking.

Her breathing slowed. He was holding her by the waist and she was again resting half way down his thighs. Trying to move closer to him, she realized her knuckles were white from the pressure of her fingers digging into his shoulders. "God, Mulder," she said, "did I hurt you?"

He let her pull him forward, settling his face in the curve of her neck. She stroked his hair, and said softly, "Mulder, that was incredible."

"Scully, what's six times seven?" he said urgently, his voice muffled by her sweat dampened hair.

"What?" She tried to pull his head up so she could look at him, but he resisted, keeping it buried in her neck.

"I always get stuck on that one."

"Mulder, you just blew my mind, not to mention several other critical body parts, and you want me to do math? Is this some sort of test?"

"No but if you don't tell me six times seven, I can't get to six times eight which is forty-eight, and so on, and this is going to be over very quickly, and don't do that," he said, sounding alarmed as she tried to lean down to see his face.

She inched forward close enough to realize that, even held down by his clothing, his erection was still pretty impressive. And she had been off in the ozone for quite a while if he was already up to six times seven. 

"Forty-two," she said.

"Thank you," he said in a strangled voice.

"My pleasure," she murmured. "Mulder, your turn. Tell me."

A puff of laughter blew through her hair. "Scully, would you be offended if I told you that at this moment all you have to do is slide up and, well… uh, down I'll be able to get all the pleasure I need?" He sat up to face her, with a smile that mixed embarrassment and arousal in an intriguing way. She smiled back softly, and wondered if he was remembering her warning to him, about getting what he wished for.

He sat with his hands on the edge of the chair, looking down at her. A trickle of sweat ran from his hair across his collarbone and down his rapidly rising and falling chest. She pushed up onto her knees, and retraced its path with one hand. "Mulder," she said, continuing down to pull at the elastic waistband of his shorts, "are you sure I can't--".

He shook his head. "Right now I want to... um, just...." he looked at her hopefully, then down to where her hands were pulling at his shorts, easing them carefully over his rigid cock. She lifted up and he slid the shorts down his legs and off his legs. She laughed as the motion jostled her from side to side, almost tipping her over till he settled back so she could balance back on his thighs. 

"Do you want to move to the--"

"No," she said, appreciating the view. "Here."

He cupped her face with his hands and drew her head up for a kiss, soft and almost chaste.

"It's okay, Mulder," she said.

He closed his eyes and plunged his tongue deep into her mouth, eliciting a heartfelt moan from both of them. She arched up and rubbed her belly against his erection, trying to move far enough in the right direction to get it buried inside her.

He let go of her mouth with a gasp, and reached down to pull her leg up further, opening her to him. He looked down to where they were almost joined, then back into her eyes as she sank down on him.

She closed her eyes, anticipating the longed-for sensation. She leaned back slightly, adjusted the angle of her hips to allow him to slide all the way in and she hummed with pleasure at the sensation.

"Scully," he gasped and her eyes flew open. "Scully." He started to thrust, a small, deep movement that she could feel all the way up in her throat. She moaned in encouragement, and pushed down, contracting around him. He dropped his head and began to thrust harder, pulling out further and sliding home with a harsh groan.

She watched as his face screwed up in an expression that almost echoed pain, and blinked as a drop of sweat rolled down his cheek and plopped onto hers. "Mulder," she whispered, "I know it's us. I know it's you. I love you."

He growled in reply, and his strokes grew forceful and more erratic. As he thrust up into her, she felt another orgasm starting to build. Cured of shyness by their earlier intimate explorations, she circled her clit once, twice, and that was enough. She shocked herself by coming for the second time that afternoon. 

He had his eyes open again, trying, but not really seeing her. "God. Scully. Love you," he gasped. "Scully...." She arched into him one last time as he came, reveling in the feeling of warmth gushing into her. He kept pumping, finally slowing, but keeping them pressed together.

His eyes finally cleared and he gave her a long look, full of emotion. Love, certainly. Desire, even now. And Mulder being Mulder, the inevitable hint of doubt. Before she could address any of them, his gaze clouded, and his eyelids dropped. He pressed his face into the side of her neck.

She pulled her hand from between them and stroked his back, moving her other hand from his hair and down his backs as far as she could reach, enjoying the feeling of strong muscles completely relaxed. She inhaled deeply, astonished at how erotic the mix of sex and sweat could be. Stifling a laugh, she realized that the CD had cycled back and was replaying that first sultry song. She hadn't heard the music for quite some time. Mulder would be pleased.

His deep breathing hitched and leaned back in the chair, pulling her with him. "Scully," he said, his voice slightly slurred, "can we stay here for a minute?"

She hadn't noticed before, but the air was cold and there was something stuck under her knee. If it was a sunflower seed shell, he was going to get one of those tongue lashings he claimed to enjoy so much. And she was sticky and sweaty and... "Of course," she said.

Her eyes closed, and she was lulled by the sound of his soft breathing. She wasn't sleepy, but felt surprisingly serene, enough to wonder idly if she could get a two-for-one steam cleaning deal on the rug and Nana's chair, and too content to care if she couldn't.

She started to drift, deliberately disregarding the kinds of thoughts that tended to creep up on her at times like this. Thoughts of threats all around -- acts of God, acts of man, acts of their own willful selves. For now, I will just enjoy this, she thought. For however long it lasts.

"Scully?" Mulder said suddenly. "Did I tell you I love you?" He started to struggle up.

"Yes, Mulder," she said, gently pushing him back down. He settled back with a sigh. "You did."

And you do, she thought. Who would have thought that you would do it so well? So hot. Surprisingly sweet. And, oh yes -- mindful.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks: To haphazard method and Dasha K. for genial beta services, general hand holding, and generous encouragement before, during, and after the writing. Thanks also to marguerite, for any number of reasons.


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